The Art of Deception
by tenshi-no-akuma-81
Summary: She was a complete and utter coward. Her combat ability was atrocious and her magical power was mediocre at best yet her cunning made her more formidable than the most ruthless of dragons. Sting x OC
1. Playing Dirty

**Disclaimer: only doing this once. Fairy Tail belongs to Hiro Mashima. I am simply writing this story out of boredom and am not making any money out of it.**

**Female OCs in this fandom seems to have a tendency to be either very mild mannered or overly badass. So I decided to do something new on my own part. **

**I'm a freak with character development so the chapters will be long as heck and the beginning may be kind of boring but it's important for later on. So read it or you won't understand it!**

**No Sting in this chapter, but Rogue will be there.**

Chapter 1: Playing Dirty

Daybreak was a peaceful village situated a few miles into dense forestry in the mountain areas of Fiore. Although it held economic prosperity, Daybreak was fairly isolated from the rest of the magical world. Mages were not unheard of but they were rarely ever called for services as the citizens in Daybreak were strong-willed people who believed in independence.

That was until the attacks began.

Heather, a middle aged woman, well known for being the best female lumberjack in Daybreak had trekked her daily path up the mountain tracks where the taller trees were. She had brought her youngest son with her, as usual, as her older children were always too busy and there was no one else who could fit the time inside their tight schedules to babysit him. It was approaching nightfall when Heather's husband began to worry when she did not return with their son.

He had gathered together a few of his friends and the small group climbed the mountains to investigate. It did not take long for the search party to find her lying beside the creek, resembling a pale ghost of her former self. Her clothes were torn, exposing a deep wound in her chest, from which flowed rivers of blood that mixed in with the mud on her skin. The ground near the creek was still soft from the recent flooding and several human shaped dents in it showed signs of struggle. A trail of animal like paw prints marked a path across the mud but it stopped once the beast had reached unimpressionable ground.

Perhaps the most disturbing or heart-warming factor of the attack was that Heather had been lying spread-eagled over her son's frame, still protecting her child even as she lay dead. The boy was soaked head to toe with blood but carried no injuries of his own with the exception of a few bruises. He had been shaken - who could blame the boy? - And hadn't spoken since, not even to his own father and siblings.

This first attack had been innocently dismissed to be committed by a cave bear and the news was quickly forgotten by the village within weeks. The second attack came two weeks later when the body of an elderly fisherman was discovered swollen and bloated, floating on the surface of the creek. His chest had been mauled once again by some kind of animal but the disturbing part was that this time, a track of human foot prints were indented in the ground.

At this point, the mayor of Daybreak began to grow desperate. His name was Frederick Bentley, a very young man who had inherited the seat at the age of eighteen from his deceased father and held a childish sort of ignorance towards the world. Naturally when the attacks started, he was clueless to finding a solution and almost broke down when other members of the council began challenging his seat.

That was until that woman had arrived. She had seemed delightful at first, lacing her hands within his and whispered lies of her occupation as an independent mage into his ear. Being a naive and impressionable young man, he had believed her and agreed to hire her for her magical services. She was intelligent- of course she was- a talented con artist and a believable fraud. Once the money was within her hands, she had run for it, leaving Daybreak with half the villagers' funds and an untamed animal on the loose.

It took a while for the mayor to recover from such a loss. His fellow council members had already scolding him for relying on magic which was all lies and fancy tales. Needless to say, he was hesitant to trust mages again but eventually decided that they were the only people who could deal with the monster. The attacks had become more numerous- to the point where the villagers were hesitant to climb the mountains to complete their daily tasks, causing a huge blow on Daybreak's economy which relied heavily on its lumber jacks to export wood.

The mayor had realised that it was a foolish decision to have trusted the woman, (he was beginning to think that she magical ability at all) and decided to hire a mages from a licensed guild. The mages were due to arrive three hours ago but vehicles that were willing to carry people into the mountains were rare and their transportation had been delayed and limited to walking.

A knock on the door aroused him from his stupor. Uncrossing his arms and lifting his head, he gulped and said in the most confident voice he could summon, "Come in."

Mr. Bentley almost choked on his own spit when two people entered; dressed in the most ridiculous outfits he had ever seen. Both mages wore full-body spandex suits that fitted in a little too nicely near the crotch area with long, flowing navy blue cloaks. Each sported a hat shaped like the head of a dog, the upper jaw lowered over their heads to shield their faces so that it was almost impossible to tell their genders, if it hadn't been for their tight fitting jumpsuits.

"Are you the mages I hired?" Mr. Bentley said a little hesitantly. Although, he wasn't expecting anyone else that afternoon, it felt right to ask... just in case as the two people looked more like costume advertisers for a tacky household product than professional mages.

"Yeah, and you're top dog around here right? Mr. Mayor was it?"

Mr. Bentley found himself stupefied at the fact that the two costume freaks were capable of making sounds other than barking. Clearing his throat he began, "Call me Frederick. And you two are...?"

"Gemmie-," the first mage, the man with the brown dog hat began.

"-and Husky," the second mage, with the grey hat finished.

"The two of us-."

"-are the guild's-."

"-best tracker mages!"

If Mr. Bentley had felt awkward before, then this was really the epitome of embarrassing moments and that was the understatement of the year. His head was still spinning from the way the two mages had completed each other's sentences and the poses... oh god, the poses! It took him a few seconds to recover from the mental scarring and forced his voice to calmly ask the mages to get off his table.

He was really beginning to regret his decision now. Maybe he should have listened to the local council members. These new mages didn't seem all that serious about their work if they were insane enough to show up on a job resembling something out of a mental asylum.

"Now that we've got the pleasantries over," he said, focusing his gaze on a painting just above their heads so he wouldn't have to look at them directly, "I'd like to discuss the mission in detail. Err...please sit."

He gestured at some chairs in front of the table but the mages waved him off.

"Nah, we prefer to stand," Gemmie said.

"As long as you are comfortable," he said dismissively before continuing, "so, the reason you are here today is because there's been some animal attacks on villagers recently."

"You're paying four million jewels just for a mission to protect people from animals?" Husky laughed, a low, somewhat dog-like chuckle.

"You're really underestimating us, aren't you?" Gemmie said.

"No! That's not it," despite containing a fairly good amount of self control, the mayor found his calm façade falling apart as the stress rushed in, "on one of the attacks, human fingerprints and tracks were found leading away from the body! There's definitely something out there in the woods and they're neither human nor animal. They've been attacking us for months now and our village isn't going to survive if this continues any longer."

"So this is a really important mission then right?"

"I'm willing to pay four million jewels for it and more if you ask for it... the only problem is...," his face fell as he trailed off, "the payment money was stolen a few days ago by a woman."

"A woman? You let your guard down around a woman? Man, you really suck, you know that," Gemmie cackled.

"There you go again, offending the client," Husky said, sighing, "sorry about that but he's right- that is pretty lame."

"Well... she was a good liar," Mr. Bentley said defensively, "she ripped our local casino one and with ease too... though now that I think about it, she was probably cheating... eh? What is it?"

The mages had grown silent, their heads lowered so that the shadow of their hats concealed their eyes. Their previous light-heartedness seemed to have disappeared with the tension and Mr. Bentley found himself quite intimidated despite the hilarity of their clothing. "Do you remember what she looked like?"

"Well, most of it has escaped me now...," Mr. Bentley began thoughtfully and sweat-dropped when their faces darkened, "but I think she had blue hair? Like really dark blue hair, almost black cut short and I think she had either blue or green eyes. Oh! And she carried around this white backpack."

"Did she give you a name?"

"Well, at the time, she said her name was Kim or something like that... but once again, I think she was lying..."

"She was," Husky said darkly, "her name isn't Kim. That girl would be famous around the black market if she didn't always travel around. Never sticks around long enough to get a reputation though."

"What? Do you share some history with her?" Mr. Bentley said, surprised.

"Frederick was it?" Gemmie said, "we'll accept your job on one condition."

"I'll accept as long as the condition does not harm the village."

"You let us go after that woman first. And after she's found, and the money's in our hands, you let us do whatever we want with her," Husky said.

"Even if it means killing her," Gemma added.

Despite the woman's crimes, Mr. Bentley was never one to encourage people to kill. However, if he had to prioritise between the life of a female criminal who had stolen money from him and the lives of his village then the answer was clear. "I accept," he said without hesitation.

"Good. We've still got a score to settle with her... messing with Quatro Cerberus... Loki, that cowardly little thieving cat."

XxX

If there was one thing that Loki was absolutely terrified off, it was dogs. From rabid Rottweilers to friendly Great Danes and even small dogs like Chihuahuas, it didn't matter. She was still scared of them, no matter the size. If you were classified under the canine category, then she was terrified of you. Loki didn't know where her cynophobia stemmed from as she had never been bitten by a dog- mainly because she'd never allow herself to be within a hundred metres of a dog.

So the fact that there were two men with dog masks currently following her made her extremely on edge. It had started off innocently enough- they had appeared outside a bakery and she had given them strange looks at their choice of wear but thought nothing of it. However, after whirling around and seeing the same person staring into a shop window several times, it was beginning to get suspicious. She immediately dismissed the possibility of the two men being mages sent from the Wizard Council as they weren't exactly being very discreet in the way they were stalking her. However, she didn't want to confront them either because Loki was, well- shit scared of dogs, even if she knew it was just a costume.

The problem with confronting them was quickly erased because they chose to approach her first. Thankfully, it was midday and the streets of the town were bustling with activity. It was beginning to become very clear that they were chasing her when they dropped the act of looking into shop windows when she turned around. Instead, they seemed to be forcefully pushing their way through the crowd to get to her.

"Do you see anything you like, miss?"

Loki turned towards the source of the voice and found that she had somehow wandered in front of a food stand when she'd been distracted by the stalkers. She decided to pretend that she was till clueless and quickly pulled on a false smile that she hoped was realistic enough to fool the stalkers. "Ah... yeah, the takoyaki looks good. Can I have a box of those?"

After paying the salesman 10 jewels, she gave a final smile and wave and left, accidently knocking over a toddler's fairy floss in the process. Without even stopping to apologise, she slipped away before the mother of the child could give her a scolding, quickly glancing around just to make sure the stalkers were still following her.

"Damn! We lost her," Gemmie cursed as Loki's tuft of dark blue hair disappeared behind the form of an overweight man. Both tracker mages relied heavily on speed to perform their magic but the large crowds of people were greatly putting them to a disadvantage.

"Don't worry too much about it. Loki's magic also uses speed," Husky said, apologising as he knocked over a scandalised old lady, "this crowd is also a disadvantage for her. Look for an opening to a fairly clear area."

Sure enough, they spotted the woman slipping down an alleyway, between two large buildings, that led off the main street. "To the right!" Gemmie whispered as the two muscled their way to the same spot and ducked inside.

"They're persistent," Loki sighed, starting to grow nervous. It wasn't as if she'd never been in a similar situation before. Loki was used to being hunted down, after all, involvement on the black market didn't exactly make you the most well liked person in the world. However, when dogs were involved, Loki was susceptible to bad judgement and bad judgement led to mistakes.

Securing her arms around her backpack so that it wouldn't fly off while she ran, Loki jumped, breaking the wall of aluminium garbage bins, scattering rotten fish, empty milk bottles and other various bits of rubbish in her wake. A yelp was heard behind her as someone slipped over the mess she had created and she quickly turned a corner and fled.

But the stalkers won't slow either. Both were at least a foot taller than her with very long legs so they had the advantage of height. "Oh, damn it all," Loki gasped, whirling around to face the two men with tears in her eyes, "why are you following me?"

"You still don't recognise us?" the man in the brown dog mask growled, "how insulting."

"NO!" Loki squealed, she felt pathetic at how high pitched her voice was, "don't come near me you stupid mutts!"

_Time to resort to desperate measures,_ Loki thought, hastily breaking the magical seals on her calves and not stopping for a minute to enjoy the new found magical flow rushing into her legs, she ran for it.

"She escaped again," Gemmie cursed, "her magical abilities have improved since the last time we saw her!" The two mages puffed as they struggled to keep up with Loki. If the girl was fast before, it was now difficult enough to constantly keep her in sight. She was extremely talented at being evasive, weaving in and out of the alleyways, using the advantage of being out front to spill as many obstacles as possible in their paths.

"She may have improved but she's still as cowardly as ever," Husky growled, "her magical power is good but she only ever uses it to run. It seems like the only thing she's improved at since we last met is running away."

"And to think we were tricked by someone like her. Absolutely disgraceful."

XxX

It wasn't often that Rogue separated himself from the rest of his group but he did it every once in a while just escape the chaos. While Sting enjoyed the attention and generally liked living his life in the open where everyone could get a good view of him, Rogue preferred to remain in the shadowy alleys of the backstreets. It was an area riddled with all kinds of petty criminals from the common pickpocket to the occasional drug dealer. Overall, it wasn't exactly the safest area in town, but Rogue had a lot of faith in his strength and he doubted that he could be beaten by simple minded hooligans and juvenile delinquents.

Rogue enjoyed the back streets for their silence. Silence was something that most people couldn't appreciate, especially people like Sting who practically smoked attention on a daily basis. After declining the offer to attend the fair currently being held in town, Sting had called him many names- amongst them were "anti-social" and "party pooper". Frosch, being the dedicated companion that he was, had agreed to follow him, separating the Twin Dragons team into a perfect two with Sting and Lector outside enjoying the fair and Rogue and Frosch hanging around the alleyways until the excitement was over. Frosch had been extra squirmy since the team had separated and Rogue had a feeling that his exceed friend would rather be enjoying the fair activities. "You don't have to force yourself, Frosch," Rogue informed him, "I'll be fine. You should go and join Sting and Lector."

"Fro likes being with Rogue," the exceed said determinedly, "if Rogue isn't going to the fair then Fro isn't going either."

"It's too dangerous for you here. The back streets aren't all fun and games you know."

"Fro knows. But Rogue is here to protect Fro from baddies."

"Alright then," Rogue sighed, giving up on trying to convince Frosch to leave him. He had expected the response, as Frosch, although being hopelessly clueless and naïve, had always put Rogue's happiness above his own. It was something that Rogue could not appreciate enough. On the contrary, while Lector loved his companion just as much- if not more, (the exceed honestly worshipped the ground Sting walked on), he couldn't remember a time Sting acknowledged this. At least, he never showed it openly.

A starving man who looked much older than he really was, stared at Frosch with hungry eyes as they passed as if he seriously considered eating him. Rogue shot the man a warning glare as he swept by and sent him scrambling. "Stay close to me, Frosch" he ordered.

They had no aim in particular, though Rogue paused every now and then to inspect the many illegal potions that he wouldn't find on sale out in the open markets. There were numerous drug dealers, though he never bought any of the potions they offered him. If he was ever caught carrying illegal drugs then it would badly stain his perfect reputation as a Sabertooth mage.

They walked for a few minutes where nothing particularly worth mentioning happened, that was until a clatter of metal awoke Rogue from his stupor. He glanced up, eyes darting to a garbage aisle situated to his left. A young woman stumbled out of it, looking worse for wear and clearly out of breath. Her bob of dark hair was cut in a simple short haircut that was more for convenience than aesthetics and she was dressed in what would have been a modestly designed green blouse except the first few buttons had been ripped open, revealing a large portion of her breasts.

Her eyes suddenly lit up as she stared in his direction. Rogue glanced quickly behind him but no one was standing behind him which meant that the girl was looking at _him_. "Hey! You there!" she called, her voice reminiscent to whispering though she was being far too loud to be doing so, "help me out for a bit, will you?"

When he didn't respond, she took this as the cue to approach him. Her skin and clothes were marked with several dirt stains and behind the sour smell of garbage, she carried an artificial floral scent that was perhaps lilac? The good quality of her clothing and the exotic perfume she wore was clearly not something that Rogue saw on the low class citizens of the back streets. If anything, he could better imagine this girl out with the rest of the adolescents, enjoying the street fair. She looked so tired that she didn't even seem to notice that her backpack was wide open, though Rogue didn't bother to tell her this.

"There are these two freaks in dog suits chasing me," she said, noticeably shuddering, "just point them in the wrong direction when they come around, OK?"

Rogue nodded and she smiled. "Thanks," she said quickly before dashing off into an alley. No sooner had she disappeared, two men matching her description exactly whipped around the corner, skidding to a stop in front of him.

Even with her warning, Rogue thought that the men looked absolutely ridiculous. If he hadn't been previously told, then he would have thought the two to be street performers participating in the fair who somehow got lost and ended up in the shady parts of town. They took a few seconds to catch their breath before the man with the grey dog mask leapt right into it, "Excuse me, mister, have you seen a girl about this tall," he gestured to a point near Rogue's shoulder level, "with short blue hair, wearing a green blouse and carries a white backpack?"

Despite himself, Rogue's lips pulled up slightly at the corners in amusement. He pointed to an alleyway, opposite the one the girl had taken, "She went that way," he said. The two men thanked him and dashed off.

Frosch turned to Rogue looking slightly surprised, "Why did Rogue help her?"

"No reason," Rogue replied, already directing his attention the alley the girl had run to. His eyes fell on a brown sack lying at the entrance between the two walls which definitely hadn't been there before. Walking over, he picked the sack up between two fingers and inspected it for a minute. It carried the girl's lilac scent and also the metallic scent of money.

He loosened the knot around the bag's neck, eyes widening as a stream of golden coins immediately fell out. Rogue had no doubt that there were at least several million jewels in that sack. It was impossible for a girl who didn't even look old enough to work full time to carry more money than what the average adult could earn in half a year, which meant-

"Fro thinks that Rogue just helped a stealer escape," Frosch said from somewhere behind him.

Rogue scooped the fallen cons back into the sack and retied the knot, "The correct term is 'thief' not stealer, Frosch. Let's go, I think we've spent enough time here. Let's go and meet up with the others."

"Rogue is keeping the money?"

"Knowing Sting, he probably blew all our money on food and rides. We'll have no money left to book an inn for the night and with this, we could probably get the fanciest suite in town."

"But Rogue is using dirty money," Frosch protested.

The noise from the fair reached their ears as they walked down the final alleyway, "Would you rather sleep on the grass then? Or maybe some garbage bins?"

Frosh wrinkled his nose, "No, garbage bins are icky and grass gives Fro rash. But what if those dogs start chasing Rogue too? Fro doesn't like dogs," he said, looking worried.

"I'll handle them, as always."

"Fro agrees!"

**Warning: I am really slow with writing romance. I just don't believe in that whole love at first sight thing or love after only four chapters. Yeah, so if I make an implied romance scene, it'll look more like friendship since I just suck at writing mushy scenes.**

**Urgh... I have a feeling that I wrote Rogue really out of character. And the problem is, Sting is going to be even harder to write. I mean, at least with Rogue, his character is quite simple to understand, at least for me. He doesn't speak very much but his actions speak louder than words. Sting on the other hand... is much more talkative yet I know near to nothing about his habits and personality. Or maybe I'm just being paranoid. **

**What are your opinions of the characters so far? Am I writing the canon characters OOC? What are your opinions of my OCs, (most of them won't stick around throughout the whole story) except for Loki of course. If you dislike her then I'm OK with that as well. It wasn't until I finished writing that I remembered that one of Lucy's stella spirits also share the same name but people spell it Loke, so give me a break OK? Also, I think the name Loki, (Norse god of trickery) really suits her personality so bear with me!**

**Oh, and just to get it clear... Loki is not me, nor do I neccessarily like her. In fact, I think we only share one thing in common and that's being extremely slack sometimes.**

**So anyway, please post a review- it makes me feel loved. Also, I'll be stalling the fight scenes mainly because I don't know any of Sting and Rogue's abilities yet.**


	2. Ain't No Rest for the Wicked

**Plenty of Sting and Rogue in this chapter...**

**IMPORTANT NOTE: I don't know Sting and Rogue's exact ages but my estimate is around late teens to early twenties so probably 18-23. This story is set out a few years before so Sting and Rogue are roughly 17 years old and still developing teenage boys. So as cool as they both are right now, they are going to act a little hormonal sometimes. It won't be too obvious but they will act slightly immature as all teenagers do when they are going through puberty. That means: larger sex drive, shorter tempers and more childish personalities. So if you by any chance think that Sting is too temperamental, or Rogue talks too much... it's because they are teenagers. Just a warning before anyone cries out OOC! And there conversations are slightly teenager-like too with lots of swearing on Sting's part.**

Chapter 2: Ain't No Rest for the Wicked

Rogue disliked fairs. Or any event involving a large gathering of people. For a conservative and modest young man who did not fully comprehend the concept of 'letting go', the fair was very much like an overwhelming kaleidoscope of colour and the mixing scents of fried dough, burnt rubber and the occasional sweaty person wearing way too much deodorant created a rather grotesque aroma that made him wish that 'enhanced sense of smell' wasn't on the list of power ups for becoming a dragon slayer. Sometimes, Rogue wandered how Sting could even put this kind of hubbub but considering his companion's more chaotic personality, he was no doubt feeling right at home.

"Put that down, Frosch," Rogue ordered for the third time that day. Unlike Rogue, Frosch, like any child was fascinated by the fair's events, pausing to ogle at every stall and activity that caught his interest.

Rogue almost felt guilty when he saw the exceed hesitantly lower the plush frog he had eagerly picked out from a toy stand. "Alright, you win," he said in defeat as Frosch shot him the ever so deadly, 'kicked-puppy- gaze, (worked every time), "how much?" he asked wearily. It couldn't hurt to actually spend some of the large sum of money he had obtained and besides, Sting was probably spoiling Lector rotten even as they spoke. As much as Rogue denied the fact that he didn't care much for Frosch and Lector's childish debates on who had the better companion, he still found himself listening attentively even when the argument was very one sided to begin with. After all, Lector was probably one of the pushiest people in the world, and Frosch should get an award for being 'pushover of the year.'

"Think of that as an early birthday present," Rogue said, handing the woman behind the stand a few coins and watched in mild satisfaction as Frosch's face lit up a little too quickly so that the effect was slightly comedic.

"Yay! Rogue is the best companion ever!"

"And remember, I'm not going to get you anything else after this. You'll have to wait for Christmas," Rogue said firmly, "now stay close. We have to find Sting and Lector before we book a hotel room and call it a day."

"Ribbit? But where will Rogue find him?" Frosch asked curiously.

"Well that's obvious," Rogue replied easily, "we'll just have to go to the front where they're having a parade with female street dancers. The man just doesn't know how to exercise self control."

"Oh, I see! Rogue is so smart!"

There was one thing that Sting hated more than waking up early on Monday mornings and, no, it wasn't drinking orange juice before brushing his teeth or even the toast, spontaneously shooting out of his toaster, effectively triggering a heart attack. Children. Slimy fingered, greasy haired little brats who always seemed to be whining about something to you with lungs that could put a banshee to shame, all the while being incredibly annoying and attention seeking.

When Sting had first related that exact description to Rogue, the shadow dragon slayer had given him a very odd look.

_You sound like the evil witch out of a fairy tale, Sting_, he had deadpanned.

Needless to say, Sting was pissed off. He had abandoned a hot dog eating contest just so that he could follow the parade to the northern side of town to watch the female street performers twirl around in their sparkling organza skirts and their glittering, sequined midriffs but instead he found himself with ice cream on his pants and a terrified child staring up at him with terrified, puppy eyes.

Minutes before, a pack of children, all decked out in uniform, no doubt on some kind of school excursion had passed by. One particularly stupid boy had found himself too busy ogling at the parade to notice Sting's leg and as a result crashed right into his knee. The ice cream in his left hand fell right of the cone and plastered itself to Sting's thigh.

Usually Sting would not have noticed as the child was barely half his height. It would have been reminiscent to a small piglet hitting a dragon, (which obviously meant that the piglet was soon to be roasted in a furnace, a fate which was similar for the child.) No, Sting's attention was caught when something icy cold began forming on his thigh, rapidly spreading across the rest of his leg like a ripple. Frowning, he hesitantly tore his eyes away from a particularly voluptuous blonde dancer and turned his gaze downwards where his eyes met with a teary eyed child holding an empty cone and a large scoop of ice cream stuck to his thigh, already half melting from his body heat, causing it to run in rivers down his leg and pooling in a lake at his feet.

What was even more unfortunate was that the ice cream was vanilla flavour, thus giving it a white colour which contrasted nastily to Sting's black pants. He had no doubt that it would leave an embarrassing stain even if he did somehow manage to wipe it off.

"M-My ice cream," the little boy whimpered, the tears beginning to pour out of his eyes.

Sting's annoyance only increased at the fact that the child had just ruined his pants, yet only seemed to be mourning the death of his stupid ice cream when the former was clearly more important. He heard Lector scoff beside him looking somewhat smug, "You are so dead."

Sting leant forward, dark aura streaming out of the pores of his skin as he grabbed the boy by the scruff of his neck and lifted him clean off his feet so that the bottom of his yellow jumper was pushed upwards revealing a small waist that was probably the size of Sting's arm. "You little brat," he snarled, "look what you did to my pants!"

The frightened boy remained petrified in Sting's grip and could do nothing more than to cry silently, "I-I'm very sorry, mister!"

"I don't think a sorry is quite enough," Sting said malevolently, pressing his face closer to his victim's head to increase the intimidation. It worked too because the boy turned his head, avoiding eye contact, "you see, these clothes were custom made and costed a lot of money. At least three thousand jewels."

"B-But I d-don't have three thousand jewels."

The parade of female street performers had by then, already moved on, giving way to a band of marching soldiers in handsome red coats and polished boots. Lector flapped upwards so that he hovered at Sting's eye level, "The dancing girls left, Sting," he informed him.

Sting's eyes darted back to the parade and growled in frustration when he realised that they were now featuring clowns, "You little brat! Now look what you did! I just missed the hot girls because of you! That's it; I'm not forgiving you until you lick the ice cream of my sh-OW!"

Something hard collided with Sting' right shoulder, scraping down the length of his arm so that his nerves were switched off for a brief second and the boy fell from lifeless fingers. Before he could hit the ground, a hand reached out to grab him roughly by the collar and lower him gently down onto his feet. Sting breathed in the familiar scent of metal polish and peppermint and his eyes widened as he whirled around to spot the newcomer, "What the hell, Rogue!" Their eyes met for a moment, red against green and it looked as if Rogue was about to say something but instead he turned his back on Sting, completely ignoring him.

Rogue lowered his sword so that the blade slid back into its sheath with a metallic 'clink'. "Are you alright?" he asked in what could possibly pass off as concern. It was then that the pain attacked Sting's arm full-force, a numbing ache as supposed to a stinging cut, and it came to his realisation that Rogue had only hit him with the blunt edge of his sword. He had half a mind to open his mouth and give Rogue an ear-bashing for breaking his arm when he realised that the other dragon slayer had not been addressing his concerns to him, but instead directing them to the shaken child.

"What on earth are you doing, Rogue?" Lector cried, looking scandalised.

"Here, I'm very sorry about my companion here," Rogue said, bending down so that he was staring at the boy on equal eye level, "he was recently released from an institution because of mental illness, ("Hey!" Sting said indignantly), he's mostly recovered now but he still has violent impulses. Here's some money so go and buy yourself a double scoop," he said, pressing a few coins into the child's hands.

"You're an asshole, Rogue," Sting cursed as soon as they had shrunk to the sides of the road where the crowd thinned out and they were completely out of earshot, "I can't believe you did that to me!"

"He's your comrade!" Lector scolded, "you didn't have to hit him that hard!"

Usually Rogue would not have ignored their comments but when two hot-headed characters ganged up on you it was very hard to do so. And besides, their words were starting to give him a headache. It was at times like this that Rogue wished Frosch had a stronger personality so that, at the very least, the playing field was equal. "You were being an idiot, Sting. I'm actually very lenient. I don't think there's anyone else in the guild who can put up with your womanising tendencies but if you're going to stain Sabertooth's reputation by beating on a child then you're going to get kicked out. And if you get kicked out then that means that I have to leave as well," Rogue's frown intensified when he saw that Sting was staring at him looking quite stupefied, "what are you looking at?"

"Rogue... you just spoke an entire paragraph! Everyone, record this on your calendars- we should make this a national holiday," Sting said sarcastically, "oh I know- we should call it: Speak like an antisocial emo day," he had predicted the attack this time and dodged smugly out of the path of Rogue's sword.

"Sting, I'm serious. Beating up deadbeat bums at bars is one thing but never attack a child," Rogue said warningly, "remember, we're still on probation because we're technically underneath the required age to join Sabertooth. One mistake and the master will kick us out."

"Fro doesn't like the sound of that," Frosch shivered, "if Sting and Rogue get kicked out then Fro will have to sleep on grass again."

"No, Frosch. I believe that there's a deeper reason to this," Sting said sagely, "you know, Rogue- most of the time you act like a stone cold bastard with no emotion but really deep, deep down in that icy heart of yours, you're actually not that tough behind all those thorns and... hey!" this time Sting barely managed to duck out of the way and the hilt of Rogue's sword brushed against his injured arm, "That hurt, you asshole!"

"You've taken worse before," Rogue said dismissively, "besides, it's just a bruise."

"You fucking broke my arm you bastard!"

"And I'll break your other arm as well if you don't shut up and act more mature," Rogue said darkly, "now, where's the remainder of our job funds?"

Rogue wasn't stupid. He already knew that the chances of Sting spending all of their job funds were pretty high. The guilt that flashed across his companion's face only confirmed his theory. "Well," Sting coughed; Rogue could practically hear the clogs in his brain turning rapidly as he tried to conjure up a false story, "Lector skipped breakfast this morning so I bought him a double lunch and-," he started but was cut off as something heavy was tossed into his arms.

"Here, I acquired some money. Four million jewels. I counted."

"Where did you get all that?" Lector said incredulously.

"It's because Rogue is the best, of course," Frosch said proudly.

"Sting's better," Lector retorted, "if he wanted to, he could get twice as much as what Rogue got."

Sting and Rogue decided to ignore the exceeds' rather childish argument and instead focused in on the sack of money. "A woman dropped it and she didn't return for it so I thought we might keep it since I knew you were too reckless to even begin to understand the concept of saving money."

"Stealing from a defenceless woman, Rogue?" Sting raised his eyebrow, "weren't you the person who was just scolding me for frightening a child?"

"I didn't _steal_, Sting. She dropped it."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say," Sting said, still looking unconvinced. He turned his head to the right to tell Lector something only to find that the air was empty, "hey, where-?" Sting was cut off as he spotted the two exceeds still hovering in midair, a few metres back still 'arguing', though a better term would have been bullying because the 'argument' seemed pretty one sided and in Lector's favour. "Hey, you two, cut that out!"

Lector hastily apologised and turned on Frosch, scolding him for being a nuisance before dragging him forward, still floating in midair. "Can we say at a hotel this time? The inns are always really crowded and the last one we stayed at smelled like mothballs."

"I remember that," Sting cringed, his nose wrinkling in disgust, "but don't worry. After all, we have _four million _jewels and we could get the fanciest suite in town. Right, Rogue?"

"I don't care," was the nonchalant reply which Sting knew from travelling with Rogue for years, was his way of complying.

XxX

The deafening sound of flesh clapping against a hard surface split the air like a gunshot as the man was sent flying backwards, knocking over aluminium bins as if they were ten pins before crashing into the opposite wall. Spider web cracks formed on the bricks, forming a pattern like a smashed eggshell on the surface of the wall. Before the man could even process the pain of the impact, footsteps were already upon him and he founded himself lifted up by the scruff of his neck and pinned up against the wall with a knife.

"Where is the money?" Loki whispered dangerously, pressing the cool edge of the knife against the taut, off-white skin on the man's neck, "Answer me!" she cried almost hysterically.

"Urgh... what's with that powerful kick...," the man groaned as the pain finally hit him. And when it hit him, it attacked hard- jolting his stomach so that the food inside mixed together with the acid a little too quickly and threatened to climb up his oesophagus and spill out of his mouth.

Loki 'tsked', her brows knitting together into a frown as she dug the knife into the man's neck, creating a shallow cut. It wasn't enough to be fatal but from the sight of bright scarlet blood staining his dull, grey shirt- the man instantly went into panic mode. "I don't like to repeat myself... Where is that money? Give it back or I'll kick you again and this time I'm going for a place far more valuable than your stomach!" she threatened.

"I don't know what you're talking about...," the man said, eyes widened in fear like a deer caught in headlights, "I'm sorry... please don't kill me! I don't even know you. I've never even seen you! Please... just let me go, I'm just a simple thief!" He looked so pathetic with tears running down his cheeks and snot dribbling out of his nostrils that Loki sighed and dropped him carelessly onto the ground. She lifted her right leg and stomped hard on the man's crotch. He opened his mouth in a silent scream before slumping, unconscious against the wall, his head lolling loosely from side to side as his body passed out from taking in too much pain.

Loki took advantage of his unconsciousness to upturn the man's pockets and check his bag thoroughly, only to find, to her great disappointment- nothing that resembled the sack she had kept her money. There was a measly amount of gold lying at the bottom of the man's bag but nothing even close to amounting to four million jewels.

_What a big misunderstanding_, Loki sighed, pocketing the thief's money and searched through his bag to salvage any items she could use or items that were valuable enough to sell. _And to think I just kicked him in the balls too..._ "Ah, I'm sorry," she said out loud, rubbing her neck sheepishly, "you'll forgive me because I'm a girl right?"

The man opened his mouth, revealing white, foaming saliva and released a weak groan which Loki chose to interpret as a yes. _What was I thinking? _She scolded herself, as she picked her way through the thief's backpack in search of resources and any valuable items. The bag was full of items that the man had pinched but there was nothing of real value that would earn a high price on the market, _He's clearly very bad at pick pocketing if all he can steal are these small trinkets. And to think I actually thought he had the brains to take anything from me._

It hadn't taken long for Loki to completely shake of the stalkers but she ran for an extra few minutes just to be sure that they gone without a doubt. The image of the dark haired youth swam across her mind for a moment and she realised that it would be unlikely for them to ever meet again but if by some strange plan of fate, they did- she would owe him a great favour. Their meeting had been so brief that Loki had barely had the time to observe him but now that she was alone in an alley with an unconscious thief, she had plenty of time to think about him through her mind's eye.

Being associated with the section of the world that society deemed to be scum since a very young age, it wasn't rare for Loki to see other adolescents as young as thirteen walking around in the back alleys and even the red light districts, whether it be selling drugs or prostituting their body or to spite the authorities by vandalism or exercising a well-planned B & E just for the heck of it. This particular man didn't look like much of a criminal though, but then again Loki had encountered many angelic-faced individuals with minds bred from Satan, himself- hell, she, herself was a prime example of this. However, out of years of experience, Loki had developed a kind of sixth sense that determined a person's state of mind, giving her the helpful ability to distinguish between those with good or bad intentions. Honestly, the kid was wearing a suit of armour in the middle of summer- you couldn't get much darker than that, yet despite his appearance, he had still helped her, a mere stranger and he didn't give off a single drop off evil aura.

"Ah, what am I thinking," she sighed as she pushed her legs up into a crouched position, "those costume freaks must have really gotten to you, Loki if you're going to sit here and go into a structured character analysis of a man you barley even met instead of thinking up a strategy to get yourself out of this mess."

She had promised her current client that she would have the cash ready by the week after and plenty of time to spare and yet here she was leaning against a garbage bin, counting the bricks in the wall opposite her. It was unlikely for her client to order her assassination as she still held high importance to various crime syndicates and her death would literally trigger an underground war. Although this outcome didn't bother Loki in the least- as she thought of the entire underground society as her pawns, it didn't matter her whether they killed each other off. But above everything, even money itself, Loki, like most human beings valued her life.

_Either way, I have to get that four million jewels in cash by next week_, she thought. Her client was a prideful man who stood strong to his decisions and did not seem to be the kind of character who would easily make exceptions.

She lifted the passed-out thief with great difficulty, hooking her hands underneath his arms and dragged him over to the paper disposal bin; the one which she decided smelt the least unpleasant. After all, the least she could do for a guy she had just wrongly kicked in the family jewels was to at least make him wake up in a comfortable position. Considering this to be a nice gesture, Loki picked through the thief's pockets one more time, just in case before leaving to find a quiet place where she could plan her next scam.

As the sky grew dark, she felt her limbs grow slack and her knees caved in underneath her weight. Releasing the magical seals on her legs were something of a last resort that Loki only used in the rare occasion when her intelligence failed her and she was forced into front line combat. It had been extremely unnecessary for her to resort to such measures when she knew that she was perfectly capable of outrunning the stalkers if she gave it time and patience but when confronted with dogs, Loki found that all logical reasoning escaped her.

She knew that it would be a while before her magic returned and her legs would heal again. It was the perfect opportunity to sit still and think of a new confidence strategy- one that she could pull off within the span of a few days. Loki crawled into the back of a loaded cart that was lying conveniently at the side of the road where she could rest her legs and think in silence.

The other girls her age would surely be sleeping now, Loki thought enviously while she envisioned herself lying inside a warm, heated room tucked behind layers of cosy bedclothes. Instead she was sitting morosely in an old cart that smelt of sawdust with nothing but her backpack and her thoughts for company.

_I have to hurry up and settle down into a guild_, she sighed out loud, brushing dust from the wood around her so that she could settle into it more comfortably. But she had expected all of this- after all, she had been living like this for many years. It had been a while since she had slept under the refuge of a roof- the times where she had blackmailed the landlords didn't count. Her eyes closed in an act of sleep but inside the clogs of her mind were still rapidly shifting.

She had to get her hands on those four million jewels, and she had to get it fast. After all, when you're planning on joining the strongest guild in Fiore, there was no room for dawdling and unlike Fairy Tail, Loki was not stupid enough to be oblivious to the fact that Sabertooth was not a guild famous for its lenience.

**Thanks to Helekiller2, Too lazy to log in, SaturnXK and GrayxLucy4ever for reviewing.**

**Sorry, my PM tab is not working and I don't want to cover this entire story with bold text so I'll just address the main points in the responses in one big reply.**

**Review Reply: First of all, many people find Loki to be quite dislikeable. I smiled when I read those reviews because that was my exact intention. Good, goody two shoes heroines are boring so I wanted to create an anti heroine. Honestly, I mean everyone in the Fairy Tail manga are all pretty much the same, (brave idiots who would kill for their nakama), and honestly, how many people have you met that are really that noble in real life? Loki is inspired by human sin, (an intelligent coward who would not think twice before betraying her 'friends'), something which I hope I carried across well. But there is a reason behind her selfish and manipulative personality and she does have a good side so please give her a little time before she starts to shine. Also I'm glad everyone liked Rogue and I hope I didn't write Sting too badly this chapter. He seems to be the type who cursed a lot as a teenager and perhaps had a rather promiscuous love life. It's something that he'll grow out of as the story develops because as you can see, current Sting seems quite well-mannered.**

**Feel free to express your opinions in your review. I only ask of you to be truthful and constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. If you dislike something, then tell me. If at any point you feel as if Loki is turning Mary Sue, tell me- though I'm confident that will never happen. :P**

**So yeah, reviewers you all get a cookie and for those who alerted and favourited, you get half a cookie.**


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